


After They Fell

by CrazyBatLady



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Gen, O/C - Freeform, future!Au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:51:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyBatLady/pseuds/CrazyBatLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A survivor of the world's downfall meets a strange band of metal men</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

They had been built to last.

Originally made to win the love of a dead girl, they had gone on to become a wonder in their own time. Dancing and performing, they entertained thousands in their native San Diego and, in time, across the globe. For decades, they were what engineers aspired to and envied, what children aspired to be a part of.

They were loved.

However, after a time, the estate of their creator began to falter for unknown reasons. The robot’s charms were lost on newer generations, seeing them as outdated. They began favouring new sources of entertainment. Technology left the Steam Man Band behind, no matter how many upgrades they received. They were simply unwanted.

The manor was sold, forcing its inhabitants to move out to newer pastures. The robots, however, insisted on remaining in the only place they had called home. Like ghosts, the oldest and youngest of the trio would attempt to drive out the new owners through various means, despite the protests from their other brother. Eventually, the estate was left to ruin, no one wanting to remain in a building that remained a nuisance to them. As decades and centuries went by, the robots were eventually forgotten about by the rest of the world, their bodies and circuits left to the elements. The manor became a ghost in itself, left by a civilisation seeking only new technologies, one that did not dwell on the past. A civilisation doomed to repeat itself.

As the bombs flew, the world fell to its knees in submission. There were no winners or losers in this fight, only body counts and collateral damage. Cities once bustling and proud in their triumphs, like Babylon, fell to their demise.

The world had been silenced.

Only a few humans remained, the few unwanted stragglers on the outskirts of humanity which had avoided the worst of the fallout. They numbered in their hundreds across the globe, and rarely met with one another, believing themselves to be the only survivors.

This is a story of how the robots met the survivor.


	2. The Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lone traveller finds some unlikely things in the desert

Wind blew great clouds of dust across the barren landscape. To any observer, the only signs of life would have been a few scrubby bushes, the odd insect and one solitary traveller. Wrapped in cloaks and sheets to keep the dust away, the figure made their way quickly, knowing that the winds promised a fierce sandstorm later on. The sun gave no mercy either, nearly cooking the traveller alive in their cloth cocoon. The satchel, filled with only the minimum supplies for survival weighed heavy on their back. A rattling cough shook the traveller’s frame, almost causing them to topple forward with its severity. This was no condition to be moving in. The traveller knew that, but had little choice. The last building had been several days ago, the last place to gather supplies somewhat longer ago. Every day, they had to drink a little less murky water and chew on a little less of the salty leather-like strips of meat in their pack. The traveller’s stomach gurgled and cramped in protest, as if offended that nothing was being done to correct this. If they stopped for any longer than it took to rest for another day’s walking, going on would be almost impossible. They would die there in the dismal and dusty desert, precious carrion for the few animals that had survived the Fall.

They had to keep going.

The traveller sighed as they stood up straight once again, placing one foot in front of the other as they had been doing their whole life. Little rest. Always just enough to make it to the next day. It was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

The traveller knew they should be paying attention to their surroundings, knowing of the dangers that could ambush them: wild animals, sink holes, explosive mines not yet triggered. These were only outside threats: they had to check themselves to ensure they didn’t give into hunger or fatigue. However, it was getting later on in the day and despite the traveller’s best knowledge, concentration was becoming sparse. This made it no surprise that the traveller was somewhat jolted by their foot hitting something solid and heavy in the sand.

They hadn’t exploded yet, so they knew it wasn’t a mine. That was useful to know. Peering through the cloth wrapped around their face, the only hole a slit for eyes, they bent down and brushed aside the sand surrounding the object. Segmented metal rods made themselves apparent, all connected to a rounded surface. The rods were of varying size, each one smooth and finely crafted. It was a minute or so before the traveller realised that this was supposed to be a hand. It looked far more archaic than the robotic parts they had found in the past: this one more closely resembled a human hand rather than the reptilian claw-like things that the traveller had dug up. It was a dull golden colour, the exact metal uncertain given its condition. It had been kept relatively cool under the sand away from the sun’s heat. Supposing this could be of some use later (what use, they were not sure), the traveller placed the ‘hand’ in their satchel. They got up and surveyed the landscape, wondering if this indicated any nearby buildings. By some miracle, it did.

It was difficult to tell, but the building seemed large from what the traveller could see, some parts taller than others. As they got closer, they could see several different buildings connecting to it. Even with the damaged exterior and sagging roof in some areas, there was no way a building this large had survived the Fall: scavengers would have taken the wood and brick and metal years ago, and even then the time that had passed had not been kind to any building left standing. It was truly remarkable.

It was probably against their better judgement at the time that the traveller decided to explore the building: it was true that they needed a place to recover, but a building this large could have had any number of creatures living in there, waiting for some easy prey to take up residence. However, the traveller was not exactly in a position to be choosy with what shelter they took up residence in. So, ever cautious, they made their way closer, approaching the large doorway. The scrub bushes increased in number as they advanced, even with patches of grass at some points. As they stood in front of the entrance, they noticed an engraving above the door. It was times like this that they wished their parents had taught them how to read.

Pushed lightly, the door drifted upon with a mighty creak that almost seemed to echo down the long and somewhat barren corridor. The traveller stepped inside onto the threadbare carpeting, keeping their wits and various wrappings about them. Despite its worn outer appearance, the building’s interior was surprisingly well-preserved if a little dark and dusty. The furniture was like nothing the traveller had seen before, antique even: brightly coloured china pots placed on squat little tables, as well as vast ornamental lighting fixtures that seemed to be out of use. The central hallway led off to many different rooms, all hidden behind doors of varying. Walking a few minutes more, the traveller came to a vast staircase. Raising their hand to the mouth and coughing simply from the dust, they decided to ascend: they may as well investigate all they can. As they climbed, they noticed just how still it was. No wind, no animals, no sinkholes waiting to swallow you up. It was something close to…peaceful? Yes, that seems like the right word, the traveller thought, with something like a smile on their face.

The second floor of the house seemed similar to the first, just on a smaller scale. However, the traveller could see that one door was open, which seemed somewhat suspicious. Taking a risk as they often did, the traveller made their way over to look in. They could see that the room was well furnished even in the dim light filtering through the dust-caked window, as if for a child. Hand-drawn pictures covered the walls, highly colourful and depicting what seemed to be birds and people and large green bears. A shelf was filled with many books, though what kind the traveller was unsure. They stepped over various drawing implements and small metal toys, wondering what kind of life the people who lived here had led.

There was a cupboard on the other side of the room, tall and somewhat imposing. The ever-present, normally suppressible spirit of inquiry drove the traveller towards the cupboard, perhaps in hope of supplies. They grabbed the round metal handle, turned and pulled.

Something large and very heavy fell forward, hitting the traveller full-on and knocking them to the ground. The only thing the traveller could make sense of was the face: a human-looking face.

They were under a corpse.

Their first (and looking back on it, rather stupid) response was to scream. It was only after a few seconds that the pain of having a body thrown against you hit, making them feel faint. The last thing they remembered before losing consciousness was the sound of approaching footsteps, and two small lights flashing next to each other in the darkness.

One green and one blue.


	3. The First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the structure wasn't odd enough, its inhabitants proved stranger still.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before the traveller came to their senses again. The first thing they noticed was that the air was somewhat warm and wetter than before. They were still in the same room, but there were now more beings in there. The traveller laid there as still as they could, hoping they wouldn’t be seen by whomever or whatever had entered. They could see from their place on the floor two tall humanoid figures, one sitting on the bed and the other standing near the cupboard. The one on the bed seemed to be fidgeting with what looked like a top hat. It was them that had been the source of the green and blue lights. Definitely not human. The traveller’s eyes slid over to the figure at the cupboard. They were trying to rearrange something in there, it seemed. The traveller squinted slightly in the darkness to get a better look. It was the body that fell on top of them. The figure was trying to put it back in the cupboard. Why would these two people keep such a thing around?

Their thoughts were cut short when the figure on the bed looked over at them, glowing eyes meeting human ones. The traveller shut their eyes quickly, somewhat in vain at this point.

“Hello? Anyone i-in there?”

Rats, they’d seen them looking around. Escape without a conflict was pretty much impossible at this point. Maybe they would just let the traveller go if they did things calmly. Taking their time, still sore from having something land on them, the traveller stood up to face the figure on the bed. Seeing better now, the traveller could make out the figure on the bed’s clothes: they seemed like they had been formal once, but were now worn and dusty and torn up. They could make out metallic limbs through the holes in the fabric. Steam hissed from vents on the figure’s face as metal plates contorted into a smile.

“G-Great, you’re awake! I was afraid the Jon had landed on you too hard. You must still be kinda s-s-sore from that.”

The traveller didn’t know how to respond. They looked over again at the other figure handling the body. Upon inspection, they saw that the body was, in fact, made of metal. It was similar to the one sitting on the bed, but the face seemed different and there was no steam coming from it.

The standing figure stood the ‘body’ upright, and closed the cupboard before turning to face the traveller. His head was somewhat lowered, his wide-brimmed hat nearly covering his glowing green eyes and silvery skin. The figure folded his arms in front of his well-tailored chest, tapping the foot at the end of one long and spindly leg.

“So do you talk at all? I’d at least like to know who decided to invade our home.”

The silver man’s voice was smooth and pleasant but his tone was harsh, practically radiating distrust.

“C-cut ‘em some slack, Spine. They just a Jon fall on top of them!” the figure on the bed protested, standing up as if to defend the person they had only just met.

“Rabbit, when was the last time we had someone coming in here? We have no idea what they might be here for, they could be dangerous!”

“I think someone d-dangerous wouldn’t have ended up underneath our brother with no way of getting out! You heard the screaming; that was not the s-s-screaming of a threat!”

“You never get it, do you?! You remember the last time someone showed up because you thought ‘oh, they don’t seem so bad, let’s just invite them in!’”

“Th-this is not a good time to bring that up!”

“What time is good then, you walking scrap heap?!”

“Just you say that again, just see what happens.”

“I said-”

“Mo.”

The two metal beings, drawn up close to each other in confrontation, filling the room with great clouds of steam, both jerked their heads around to the traveller, who had uttered their first word for a long time, albeit somewhat muffled.

“Name is Mo.”

The coppery one stood back from his domineering companion and smiled, somewhat more strained this time.

“Good to meet ya, M-M-Mo. Sorry for getting off on the wrong foot.”

He walked over to Mo and gave something of a mock bow.

“My name is Rabbit, and Sir Silver over there is called the Spine. The thing that just fell on you was the Jon. He’s feeling a bit…closed up at the moment.”

What may have been a joke fell on ears not accustomed to humour, leaving the room in an uncomfortable silence.

“Was that a pun, Rabbit?”

“That was a pun.”

“I thought we stopped doing those.”

“We haven’t had an audience in over half a millennium; I think I’m entitled to a pun or two!”

“Right, of course.” The silvery bot’s glowing eye-lights gave the impression of rolling, and looked over at the somewhat confused traveller.

“So, Mo. Could you tell us why you have come here?”

“Shelter. Supplies. Rest. Did not mean harm.”

The Spine put his hand to his chin as if in thought, his doubtful facial expression suggesting otherwise.

“Yes, that makes sense. The first human to come here in decades, in the middle of a desert, just happens to be looking for a place to shelter. No, nothing suspicious there.”

Rabbit sighed and slapped his face plates with one hand. He promptly grabbed Mo by the arm and led himself and them out of the room, leaving the Spine standing by the cupboard on his own.

“Sorry you had to see all that, M-Mo. Spine can be a bit w-w-wary of strangers.”

Mo could understand that: they realised their presence here was somewhat unprecedented. Frankly, it was a miracle they had found it.

Rabbit led Mo down the staircase they had entered by and along the corridor. They verged off into another corridor that Mo hadn’t seen before, ending in a room that had probably been a kitchen at some point or another.

“Just s-s-sit down here. You must be huuu-ngry.” Rabbit gestured to a somewhat worn wooden seat near an even more worn wooden table. Mo gingerly took a seat, still feeling like an intruder. Rabbit sprang away and started haphazardly searching through the dusty cupboards.

“We haven’t had any p-people here for a while, but I think we have…ha ha!”

Rabbit triumphantly held up a can of tinned food of some variety (it was difficult to tell from a distance) and set it down in front of the traveller. Mo simply looked at it for a second, still waiting for their brain to process that someone was just giving them food and they were not having to work for it.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Is fine.”

“You’re not much for full sentences, are you?”

Mo looked down, fiddling with their fingers.

“Don’t talk much. Few chances.”

Rabbit span around the chair next to Mo so that it faced backwards and sat down, forearms leaning on the chair’s back. There were a few minutes of silence and staring, Mo staring at the can and Rabbit staring at Mo. It felt odd for both parties.

“W-Where did you come from, anyways?” Rabbit ventured at last, his curiosity peaked.

“Long way away.”

“Does it have a name?”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh.”

More awkward silence.

“S-Sorry if I’m making you feel weird. It’s been y-y-years and years since we last saw a human, and that was not pleasant at all.” Rabbit apologised, drumming his forearm with his long metal fingers, apparently remembering something he didn’t care to remember.

“Same. Alone for long time.”

“You mean completely?”

A quick nod.

“That sounds t-terrible. At least I have Spine to keep me company.” Rabbit said, quickly followed by a mutter of “even if he isn’t always the best company”. Mo suddenly remembered something from a few minutes ago.

“Man in cupboard. Friend?”

“Brother. His name is the Jon.”

“Why off?”

Rabbit sighed, looking down as if approaching something that he really didn’t want to, his hat hiding his face.

“He…runs on something d-d-different to me and the Spine. We only need water to keep going. The stuff that he n-neeeeds hasn’t existed for a few hundred years. We still have some stored away, but we have to be careful how we use it.”

He looked up, a line of something black running down his face.

“He can only come out of stasis every few decades or so. He’s gonna d-d-die one day. All we can do is delay it.”

The silence was less awkward this time, seeing as both of them were getting used to it. Mo wasn’t exactly skilled in the art of comforting people, not even machines that looked like people. They only had a short time to reflect on this oversight in their development as a human being before the coughing started. While this wasn’t common, it was certainly violent. They doubled over, holding their hands to their mouth, feeling phlegm and blood coat their throat stain their hands.

“Wwwww-what’s wrong?! Are you okay?”

There was panic in Rabbit’s voice: in his long life, he’d forgotten a fair bit about human biology and what happens when bits of them start acting up. Mo fell from the chair , hitting their head with a thud. Rabbit’s frantic voice soon faded away as the room blurred and blackened.

Great, another concussion.

They really had to stop letting this happen.


End file.
